


In So Much Time

by NecoArc



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Advice, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Overeating, Professors, Vomiting, idk TAGS, mentoring, more tags, please stop reading the tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecoArc/pseuds/NecoArc
Summary: Pretty version:No one said the transition from mercenary to teacher would be easy. Things would take time, and surprisingly, Seteth had a good amount of patience.Real version:What if Blythe stuffed her face having four different meals with eight different people she'd probably throw up huh





	In So Much Time

It was a terrible idea to take the shortcut to stables. 

The overwhelming stench of horses and husbandry was the final straw for what she could stomach...which today, had been a lot. 

Fish salad, bear bourguignon, escargot, and orange parfait. 

All in the span of less than twelve hours. 

Her gag reflex began to operate on its own as she held her hand over her mouth, all but sprinting to the closest empty stable. Letting loose the contents of her stomach, she gripped a nearby pitchfork for balance as her knees gave way. She recalled the last time she had vomited, back when she was a child. It was during a particularly harsh campaign in the heat of the southern territories. Hungry for more than rations of dried bread and water, a very particularly yellow slug had looked particularly appetizing. The irony was laughable: she was now puking snails worth over five thousand gold in value. All in just twelve hours. Regaining control of breathing once more, her stomach dropped again as she made out the sounds of hurried footsteps approaching. 

“By the goddess—! Are you alright? Do you need a medic?”

Of all people...through the pain in her gut, she knew that the voice belonged to the stern right hand of the archbishop, Seteth. Pulling herself up on shaky legs, she struggled to find her voice against the acidic burn in her mouth.

“It’s fine...I’m good.” She stated. Seteth gawked at her in shock, his brow furrowed in concern or disapproval...maybe both. She didn’t know enough about him to tell.

“That couldn’t be blood.” Seteth said. The response was more of a statement than a question. Blythe gave a sidewards glance at the heap inside the stable, then back at him. Seteth’s eyes didn’t look towards the stable, but at her chin. 

“Ah.”

With languid brush of her hand, she wiped the edge of her lip and analyzed the findings.

“Tomato paste.” She replied. “Morfis tomato, I think.”

“Were you not eating fish with Flayn just this morning?” Seteth questioned sharply. Blythe nodded. Yes, this was true. 

“After the fish, I went and had bear bourguignon with Felix and Sylvain. It was the special today, and they seemed interested…”

“You just said that was paste.” Seteth responded, folding his arms. “The bourguignon doesn’t have tomato paste.”

“Well...after that, I invited Lorenz and Ferdinand to…...the escargot” She recalled, woozily, “...they seemed distracted during our last class, so I thought maybe...” Suddenly, Blythe blanched, holding her hand over her mouth as she waited for the next wave of revolt from her stomach at the mention of the snail dish. 

“Professor—!” 

With a retch, she doubled over again, coughing up more of today’s feast. Stumbling forward as her legs gave way, she sought for leverage. To her surprise, Seteth had come to her side, lending his arm for support which she took, abashed. She had only been at the monastery for two moons or so— surely whatever small favor she may have gained with Seteth before was now gone forever. 

“I guess my stomach can’t handle rich food like this, huh?” She smiled weakly at her own joke.

“That it cannot.” Seteth stated flatly by her side. “Does the goddess not speak of ‘everything in moderation?’” 

“It would make sense, if she did.” Blythe replied. (“You should know that you have sickened us both!” Sothis complained into her head. “Ugh…no matter  _ how _ delightful it looks at the moment, I will scream at you until you no longer wish to eat!”) She groaned aloud. Indeed, it had been Sothis who was eager for her to try each plate, though she didn’t refuse either.

“It’s yellow. That’s concerning.” Seteth noted.

“It’s the parfait being served now. It’s not bile.” Blythe replied, wholly embarrassed, yet thankful for once that she didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve. Her eyes shifted up to Seteth whose face surprisingly showed less disgust than she would have expected. Seteth seemed to notice her stare. As if reading her mind, he responded.

“I’m not new to things like this. When I first brought Flayn here, she did exactly the same.” Shifting his other arm to lightly grab her other shoulder, she used his arms as a support to raise herself up on what felt like the legs of a newborn fawn. “She...overindulged on the fish and various other dishes she hadn’t tried before when I wasn’t looking. Even worse, she’d tried to prepare a fish she’d caught herself from the pond— her condition was much worse, and lasted over the course of days.” Once she was steady, Seteth gave her what she assumed was a reassuring pat on both shoulders. 

“Luckily for you, I highly doubt you were poisoned, and the majority of what ails you has been left in the stables.”

Blythe blinked at the lighthearted comment. 

“I’m...glad.” Blythe responded, though her face didn’t seem to want to illustrate that fact. “Thank you Sete—”

“But what actually troubles me,” Seteth continued, as he now stroked the light beard on his chin, brows still eternally furrowed. “Is that she also mentioned being with other members of the monastery when she ate. I’ve always feared that it was because the students had pressed her to try all these foods...” He said with a certain level of contempt. Blythe did think his overprotective side was rather charming. “But you don’t seem to be the type to be influenced by peer pressure...Nor do you seem like a glutton. What brought you to this point of excess?”

Ah.

Blythe placed her hand on her chin in thought. (“You both hold the same pose when you think.” Sothis noted idly.”The pose of an educator…”) 

“Well, I…” 

What she wanted to say was at the tip of her tongue, but caught in her mouth. 

Confessing her thoughts to the senior educator wasn’t something she envisioned herself doing. Yet, there was no one else to tell. She wanted to make Jeralt proud, and concerning him with her social problems was territory they had never tread...because it had never been territory she had ventured into. She wanted to justify the trust Rhea had placed in her, whether she saw herself in the same light was irrelevant. Seteth was a fellow teacher, whose sharp eyes seemed to betray a knowledge beyond his years. Surely he’d heard everything. 

“I’m...not very good at showing my emotions.” She said blankly. “I want to get closer to my students, but inviting them to tea...I’m afraid I’ll look displeased. Or...not say the right thing.” 

Seteth didn’t interrupt as she searched for the right words. Something about his expression reminded her of her father in a strange way, so she continued, “With food, I don’t have to talk much. If I invite two others, they talk to each other, and I become a part of it without saying much. It’s all easier, except for the eating part…”

“Do you  _ need _ to befriend your students.” Seteth said with a frown.

“Pardon?”

“If you are their teacher, they will be looking for your respect first and foremost. With your position, you are meant to be their leader, not their friend.” He replied, almost admonishing in tone, but in a way that reminded her of Jeralt once again.”You are young for a professor, and I can see how the lines between authority and friendship may blur when you teach those who are close to you in age, but you must remember your position is to instruct, and with that you can hold their respect. From there, you can create bonds that can form into friendships...but always know that they are looking to you for guidance. First and foremost.” 

Blythe smiled. Indeed, his words had found her core concern, giving her an answer that she could work towards. “I am being lectured...I still have much to learn.”

“You are indeed.” Seteth responded, “And there is  _ always _ much to learn.”

“Thank you for listening, Seteth.” She said. Her chest felt lighter with the weight lifted off of it, in more ways than one. 

“You are lucky that I found you here instead of one of your students.” Seteth said, uncrossing his arms. “Or worse, Lady Rhea.”

“Could you not mention this to her?” Blythe frowned at the thought of how to repeat the situation to the head of the church.

“Though I’ve had my qualms about your position as a professor, I believe our discussion today should have given you a lesson that I hope you will intend to follow.” His eyes trailed to the cathedral behind him, and then back towards the younger mercenary. “Thus...I don’t feel the need to.”

“Appreciated.” She replied with a nod. 

“If you will, be sure to clean the stable before the horses pick at your leftovers.” Blythe looked back towards the stable, where a handful of horses had poked their head over towards the mess she had made on the floor. “Now, if you’ll excuse me then, professor... ” Seteth gave a curt nod, which Blythe returned, as he continued on his way.

(“How embarrassing!” Sothis jeered.) 

Indeed. Yet, there was something about the older professor that gave her a comfort that she had only placed in Jeralt. Still, her ears reddened as she took in the entirety of the circumstances of their encounter. It really was...embarrassing. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for coming to my ted talk, im thinking of writing more drabbles  
It was originally going to be Dimitri but I like Seteth and he needs more attention


End file.
